


I Dreamed a Dream [and now you're dead]

by onlyliquidsunshine



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Death Row, Dog Attacks, Drowning, Fake AH Crew, Nightmares, caleb the nurse makes an appearance, nobody actually dies though dont worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyliquidsunshine/pseuds/onlyliquidsunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are celebrating a successful job of eliminating a rival gang when Gavin asks him the question that haunts him for the rest of the year.</p><p>"Ryan, have you ever thought about killing us?"</p><p>He lies. Says he hasn't.</p><p>But his subconscious has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone! This is my first multichapter, and while it isn't the one I originally planned on publishing first, it happened to be finished before the other one. Enjoy!

Once the last member of the rival crew drops dead from a single bullet to his throat, Michael begins a joyous laugh that they all eventually join into. 

This gang had been giving the Fake AH Crew problems since the new year began. Three months ago, Geoff had decided that he had enough of it, but it wasn’t until now that they stood victorious over them. They weren’t dangerous, per say, but they were slippery as fuck, making it very difficult for Geoff to find and eliminate them. Yet here they stood, three months later, finally free from the troublesome gang.

Ryan stepped out from behind his debris of cover, still laughing even as he limped his way over to the rest of his crew. Geoff was standing over the last dead body, screaming into his face of how they won and how you can’t defeat the Fake AH Crew. Ryan watched as Jack quickly made his way over to Geoff, pulling him away from the body and into a tight hug, frantically checking over him for injuries. 

“Ryan!” The man in question looked up to see Ray waving at him from his sniper position on the second floor of the warehouse the final standoff took place in. “Ryan I’m gonna jump down to you!”

“Ray, don’t-!” Ryan shouts up, still smiling despite his concern. Ray doesn’t pay him any heed, strapping his sniper rifle to his shoulder and climbing over the railing. Ray is then falling, yelling in excitement, sticking the landing perfectly with a summersault. He then stands up, brushing off the dust and dirt before jogging his way towards Ryan. 

“We did it Ry!” He exclaims once he has made the short distance to Ryan. Ryan smiles before remembering that Ray can’t see it due to the skull mask that he’s wearing. He tears it off his head, revealing the smeared black and red face paint along with his toothy grin. Ray is practically bouncing where he stands in happiness, swiveling his head around to try and find the others. Ryan chuckled, grabbing Ray’s upper arm and started to drag him towards the middle of the room where Geoff and Jack were. It wasn’t until then that Ray notice Ryan was limping.

“Ryan! You’re hurt!”

“‘Tis but a scratch,” Ryan responded still shuffling the two along.

“Ryan.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.” Ryan turned slightly, now facing Ray. “Just bruised my ankle a bit when diving for cover earlier.” Ray nodded, seeming to accept Ryan’s explanation then proceeded to wrap an arm around his waist, helping him limp across the warehouse. 

"We did it boys!" Geoff shrieks, pulling away from Jack to thrust a fist into the air. Michael howles in response somewhere to Ryan and Rays left, with Gavin cheering alongside his boi. 

It's all good. The Fake AH Crew are okay and champions and Ryan can't see himself being put out of this joy for quite some time. With that notion in mind, Ryan swings Ray onto his back piggyback style and spins around a couple of times cheering alongside everyone else.

\---------------

Almost five hours later, the crew sits huddled around in Geoff's apartment, drinking and talking about future plans while Gavin slurs out would you rather and what if questions. 

Ryan is sitting on the couch next to Geoff amused and slightly amazed with the amount of alcohol his boss has managed to consume. 

Gavin and Michael are no better either, and soon Michael thinks that it would be a splendid idea to play a game of truth or dare. Ray, Gavin, and Geoff enthusiastically agree with the plan, it takes a little bit to convince Jack, but it seems that the small amount of alcohol in his system does the trick because he agrees as well. When everyone else is looking at Ryan expectantly he just shrugs and request that he goes first. 

The game is fun for the first hour or so, when everyone but Ryan and Ray are a happy drunk and are willing to do crazy dares. Upon Ray's request Gavin even goes as far as to lean in to kiss Michael on the mouth. Ryan is pretty positive he would've gone through with it if Michael hadn't pushed him away. But as they hit the ninety minute mark, a blanket of exhaustion layers over the group and they begin choosing truths over dares. 

"Ryan, truth or dare?" Gavin asks him when it's the lads turn to choose.

"Truth." Gavin pauses, clearly trying to come up with a good question despite his current state. At this point Gavin is leaning heavily against Ray to stay sitting up right and the fingers on the bottle of beer in his hand are dangerously limp and close to letting go of the object. 

"Ryan," he restates, his eyes going wide. "Ryan have you ever actually thought about killing us?"

"Oh absolutely," Ryan says jokingly, nodding his head to add more of an effect.

"He's lying, Vav," Ray stage whispers, his eyes widening in mock horror.

"You can't lie in truth or dare Ryan!" Michael shouts, obviously offended. 

"Unless you aren't lying," Jack concludes, looking directly at him. Ryan throws up his hands in surrender.

"Alright you caught me. To answer honestly Gav, no, I haven't thought about killing any of you." 

He's lying. 

No one seems to catch on, however, and they continuing with the game as if nothing had happened. Ryan easily slips back into the fun of it, forgetting about his lie until it is the wee hours of the morning and they have all agreed to go to bed. 

He's lying half asleep on his bed when the sharp knife of guilt rips through him. Of course he hasn't  _ actually  _ thought about killing them, even if he threatens Gavin every other week. But when the crew first started, when he was first recruited and everyone was fumbling around, he'd have dreams about hurting them. Jack all bled out, Michael missing his fingers and eyeballs, Ray with broken glasses and a bullet lodged into his chest. 

Naturally he dwelled on them back then, debating the importance of them and wondering if he should act upon them, but now he tries to forget that he ever dreamt them, the thoughts now faded memories in the back of his head. 

Ryan curls into himself, his head in his hands as he chants  _ 'forget forget forget'  _ whether it's outloud or in his head, he's not sure. He has to force himself to forget because the simple notion of the crew dying at his hands is too much to bear now. He'd be killing his  _ family,  _ the people who have cared about him and have saved his life countless of times. 

He keeps chanting to himself to forget, curling tighter into himself as he tries not to think about everyone dying at his hand. He tries not to think about Michael, and how he too is always scared about losing everybody despite what he claims. Or Gavin, who was so scared of him at the beginning but now has gone to admit that he likes Ryan more than Michael on some days. He cringes when Geoff’s face floats into mind, Geoff who brought everyone together and who feels responsible for keeping everyone safe and alive. He imagines Jack’s blood on his hands, Ray staring at him like he was a stranger as he bleeds out-

“STOP IT!” He shouts, freezing immediately afterwards, afraid that someone in the apartment heard. When a couple of seconds pass and no sounds have been heard from outside his room, Ryan relaxes, choosing to cover his ears with his hands. Silence somehow always made it better, easier for him to slip into a blank mind set and extinguish the guilt, regret, overwhelming sadness and loneliness that he’s feeling. All of which are emotions he's not equipped to deal with. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and eventually falls asleep, still curled and stressed, but his dreams thankfully non existent nonetheless. 

\---------------

Ryan wakes up much later to find Geoff, Gavin, and Michael violently hungover, all in the kitchen nursing cups of coffee. 

“You all look like you got hit by a truck,” Ryan greets cheerfully.

“Oh, sod off.” Gavin moans, putting his head in his hands. Ryan laughs, moving to pour his own cup of coffee. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” He asks, bringing his mug up to his mouth. 

“No,” Michael pipes up before Geoff can. “Just- no. We are not doing anything today. Geoff, if you so far as dare make plans for today, you can count me out.”

“Not doing anything.” Geoff says, his voice muffled as he hides his face in the crook of his elbow on the table. “We are going to stay here, and do nothing. We deserve it.” 

“You’re gonna waste away a whole day?” He asks, starting to smirk.

“You’re the one that wasted the day away!” Ray shouts from the living room. 

“What?” Ryan questions, raising an eyebrow. Ray hops over the back of the couch, making his way to stand next to Michael's chair.

“You slept for almost twelve hours dude.”

“Fuck.” Is Ryan's only response. A quick glance at the kitchen clock confirms that yes, he had been in bed for about eleven hours, almost twelve. “Fuck.” He reiterates. 

“If it makes you feel better, we only woke up about an hour or so ago,” Gavin comforts, blindly reaching for his mug. 

“I woke up before everybody else, if you would believe it.” Ray states proudly, puffing his chest a little. 

“Go claim an award somewhere else,” Michael grumbles, swatting Gavin’s hand away from his cup. 

“Jack’s still not asleep, is he?” Ryan asked, slightly alarmed. 

“Nah, he’s out getting something. Orange juice maybe? Who knows.” Ray shrugged, walking over to sit on the counter. "Anywho, how's your ankle doing?" 

"It's good," Ryan responds, lifting his leg to shake his foot a bit. "Probably will be back normal by tomorrow." 

Ray nods and at that moment Jack slammed open the door to the apartment, carrying in two bags of groceries. 

“And how are my favorite people this morning?” He hollers cheerfully, placing the bags on the counter. 

“We’d be a lot better if you weren’t shouting,” Geoff grumbles, lifting his head to glare at Jack. 

“Ah, well.” Jack shrugs, pulling his groceries out of the plastic bags. “I got you guys some orange juice, gatorade, and bread to make toast with, so you’re welcome.” Ray groans loudly in response. 

“What are the rest of us supposed to live off of today then?” He asks, shooting a glare at the three items on the counter.

“You could live off of bacon if you wanted to, Ray.” Ryan says, tilting his head in confusion. 

“Not with those guys eating it too.” Ray jabs his thumb in the direction of the three hungover, crossing his arms. “The eat just as much, if not more than me. Plus, orange juice is gross.” Ryan sighs, setting his mug down, walking forward and clapping his hand on Jack’s shoulder, silently alerting him that he will take care of it. Jack nods at him, walking away to fill glasses with juice. 

“I’ll take you to get food Ray, where do you want to go?” Ryan asks, resting his forearms on the counter. It takes Ray less than a second to answer.

“Taco Bell.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ryan deadpans.

“Dead serious.” Ray tells him. “My Puerto Rican blood is calling for it, Ryan. I need to fulfil my heritage desires.”

“Can’t argue against heritage desires Ryan.” Gavin chimes in, gratefully taking a glass from Jack. 

“If that’s the case, then why don’t you need tea every five minutes like your people?” Michael argues. “Maybe you’re not really British.”

“Oh sod off Michael.” Gavin snaps. 

“Anyway!” Ray intervenes, reaching forward to grab Ryan’s arm. “Take me to get food like you said.”

“Okay,” Ryan agrees, straightening up. “But a Taco Bell is only like, two blocks away, so we’re walking.” 

“Ryan no.” Ray whines, but follows him to the door anyways. “Let’s just take a car, or your bike.”

“Nah,” Ryan smiles, opening the door for Ray. “Walk or no food.” Ray lets out what Ryan considers to be a rather over dramatic sigh, but walks out nonetheless. 

For the first block of their stroll, Ryan is greeted with the silent treatment from Ray. He doesn’t mind though, the weather is nice out, and he’s enjoying their quiet, peaceful walk. 

And then a stray dog walks up to the duo. 

“Aw,” Ryan coos, dropping to a crouch and holding out his hand as an offering. “Hey buddy.” 

“Uh,” Ray mumbles, taking a half a step back. “C’mon Ry, thing probably has rabies or something. You shouldn’t touch it.” 

“Oh so  _ now  _ you talk to me.” Ryan counters, gently patting the dogs head. 

“I just think-” Ray is promptly cut off as the dog nuzzles his face against Ryans cheek, and the other man laughs in joy. 

“Ray look at him!” Ryan grabs the dogs head, turning it so that Ray has a full frontal view of the animal. “Isn’t he adorable?” 

When the dog makes eye contact with Ray, his whole demeanor changes, going from a happy stray, to his ears falling back, and his lips curling in a snarl. Before Ryan can do anything, the dog worms his way out of Ryan’s arms, leaping at Ray, forcing its paws on his chest, snapping at his face. 

“Ryan!” Ray shouts, trying to shove off the animal while staying upright. “Ryan get it off of me! Get it-” His pleads are drowned out by the dog starting to bark, inching his teeth closer to Ray’s face.  _ “Ryan!” _

Ryan scrambles up, wrapping his arms around the chest of the dog, pulling him off of Ray and shooing him in the opposite direction. He watches the dog, making sure that he won't come back before turning to check on Ray. His hands are clenched by his chest, eyes wide and fearful, and he’s still breathing heavily, frozen in place from terror. 

“That dog did not like you,” Ryan comments after a moment, breaking the tension. Ray lets out a humorless laugh, placing his palm over his heart. 

“Most dogs don’t.” He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “And I don’t like them. At all.”

“Really?” Ryan raises his eyebrows. Ray nods. 

“Yeah. They’re big, and loud, and I was attacked more than once in New York, so I hate them.” Ryan allows Ray another moment to gather his breath before clapping his hand on his shoulder in reassurance. 

“Well I’ll make sure to keep dogs away from you from here on out. Let’s go get your food.”

“Yeah, okay.” Ray flashes him a smile, starting to walk forward again. Ryan follows him, making a mental note to remember Ray’s fear of dogs. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Copy that,” Ryan whispers, creeping about the deserted hotel. The Fake AH Crew has just completed a heist, and was in the midst of escaping when the police caught up to them. With all the tires of their getaway vehicle being shot out, Jack was forced to pull into the parking lot of a hotel, and the crew decided it would be best to spread out and hide from the police while they waited for backup. After stuffing all the jewels they managed to grab into Rays backpack, they file out of the car and into the hotel, blending into the random people littered about the lobby. 

The police followed them in sooner than they would’ve liked, but they make do. Ryan sees Geoff throw himself into the kitchen to hide, while Ray tightens the straps on his backpack before sprinting up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Ryan himself doesn’t have time to see where everyone else has hidden, opting to run up a different set of stairs instead. He’s made it to the second floor when the police start ordering an evacuation, and he’s just stumbled upon the third floor when the fire alarm goes off, encouraging a faster evacuation. 

He slipped into a room as a couple leaves it, quickly pulling his gun from pocket a switching the safety off. He stays in there for a couple of minutes, listening to fire alarm ring and the heavy footsteps of the cops running around. Geoff radios in, telling the crew that backup is on the way, and to meet back up on the roof. 

Which brings Ryan to where he is now, sneaking out of his hideout room and into the hallway. 

“Oh yeah,” Geoffs voice breaks over the comms. “If you run into a cop, try to take them down without shooting. That’ll cause noise and more cops coming to your spot. We’re outnumbered and I doubt any of us can get to your aid in time.” 

“I’m on the fifth floor, and there’s no sign of a fire escape. We’ll have to make it to the top floor and figure it out from there.” Ray says, his voice staticy over the electronics. 

“I got shuffled outside with everyone else when the fire alarms went off,” Jack quietly informs them. “And it looks like if you make it to the seventh floor, you can break the windows, and reach the edge of the roof and pull yourselves up.” 

“Everyone make your way up to the seventh floor then,” Geoff concludes, and with that, they all sign off of the communication devices. 

Somehow Ryan knows that Michael and Gavin are in the basement, and he silently wishes them the best of luck before opening the door to the back staircase, making his way up the stairs to the fifth floor. Getting to Ray is his absolute number one priority right now. 

He bounds up the flight of stairs with no encounters of anyone or any problems. Upon reaching the fifth floor, he swings the door open, flinching at the sound of the fire alarm screeching at full volume again. 

He walks down the hallway and makes a few wrong turns and assumptions before he finds Ray. He finds him crouching underneath a window, clutching his backpack to his chest. 

“Ray!” Ryan calls out, jogging towards him. Ray looks up at the sound of his voice, relief evident on his face when he sees Ryan. 

“Ryan!” He yells back, standing up and tossing his bag back over his shoulders. Ray waits till Ryan is closer before continuing. “Ry, there’s cops on the sixth floor. I don’t know how they missed me, but I can hear their footsteps.” 

“Okay we’ll deal with that later. In the meantime, give me your bag.”

“I can carry it myself.” Ray says slowly, narrowing his eyes and gripping the bag.

“Yeah but you can run faster without the bag.” Ryan argues. Every part of his brain is yelling at him that he  _ needs  _ that bag, that they can’t leave until the bag is in his possession. 

Eventually Ray relents, and hands over the small backpack. Ryan flings it over his shoulder, relief flooding his system.

“Let’s go.”

Ray and Ryan stealthily make their way up the stairs, occasionally crouching and hiding when they hear unfamiliar voices or footsteps. Ray complains about cheap hotels with no elevators, and in thirty minutes they have made their way to the seventh floor completely intact. Lucky for them, a window lies at the end of the hallway that they can break and climb to safety.

“You break, I stand guard.” Ryan tells Ray, getting only a nod of acknowledgment before he is running off and breaking the seal on the window. Despite being guard, Ryan doesn’t notice the two cops as they round the corner. 

“Freeze!” They shout in their familiar fashion. Ryan does the opposite, killing them both easily with two bullets.

“Geoff said to be quiet.” Ray scolds behind him. He’s about to respond with snark but is cut off with sharp barks. 

Dogs.

Ryan tries to warn Ray, he knows Ray fears dogs, but there’s no time as the dogs are instantly rushing at them, and jumping at Ray, bringing him down flat on his back. 

“RYAN!” Ray screams, blocking the dogs snapping jaws with his forearm. “Help me, please!”

Ryan wants to, he does. He wants to run forward and pull the dog off of Rays chest, shoot the dogs and help him out of the window and to the roof where it’s safe. 

Instead his feet are rooted to the ground, and he watches helplessly. “I have to keep the jewels safe.” He tells Ray. 

“ _ RYAN. _ ” Ray shrieks again, his ribs cracking under the weight of the dogs jumping on his chest. “ _ PLEASE! _ ”

Ryan repeats his previous statement and Ray sobs as the dog rips out his throat, blood spraying on Ryan's shirt, all over the walls, and on Ray. In just a blink, as Ray makes his last choked plea, the dogs are gone, and Ryan is leaning over Ray. 

“Wake up.” He tells Ray, shaking him. Blood oozes from his throat and Ray looks smaller than he ever has before. “Wake up, wake up,  _ wake up-” _

 

Ryan bolts straight up in a cold sweat. 

He’s in his room, in safe house number four. He reckons it’s about four-thirty in the morning, and Ray isn’t dead. 

_ Ray isn’t dead. _

Ryan rolls out of bed and doesn’t even think to grab a sweater as he flies out of his room, looking for Rays. While he’s pretty sure all he experienced was a dream, he needs to make sure. He needs to see Rays chest rising and falling, see that his throat is intact and not a bloody hole.

He sneaks into Ray’s room with the grace of an elephant, and it just happens to be lucky that Ray is the heaviest sleeper in the crew. Ryan creeps up to his bed, inspecting Ray silently to make sure he’s okay. 

Ray’s hair is flat and greasy, and he’s too pale for someone with Puerto Rican descent, but his throat is free of blood, and Ray breathes softly as he sleeps. Ryan sighs, letting the tension release from his body. He walks back to his bed in a solemn silence, reflecting on the dream?

Would he really let Ray die by his greatest fear? No of course not. Not even if it meant failing a heist. 

This is what he convinces himself of to get another hour of sleep before guilt wakes him up like a slap in the face from ice water. He knows he looks awful that day, Michael and Gavin tell him separately, and Jack keeps giving him side glances of worry. 

“Just had a bad dream about a heist.” Ryan explains when Geoff inquires. That seems to satisfy him, because he nods in understanding. 

“Sorry buddy, those suck.”

Yeah, they really do.

Ryan is conflicted between hovering and avoiding Ray for about two weeks. One part of him wants to hover, make sure no harm comes to him. But mostly to prove to himself that if harm  _ did  _ come, he wouldn’t stand by and let his friend die. The other part, and most convincing part of him, tells Ryan to stay away, that Ray would see right through the guilt and figure out instantly what he was thinking about.

“Dude.” Ray confronts him on the third week. “You’re going to play a video game with me and tell me if I fucked up somehow, because you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now.”

“You didn’t fuck up.” Ryan says quietly.

“Oh. Good.” Ray relaxes his stance, his arms uncrossing and falling to his sides. “Then wanna play a game? Or go kill people? Whatever to get you out of this funk man.” Ryan smiles and goes with the second option. In the end it does help, it takes the tension out of his shoulders and cures his ongoing headache from lack of sleep.

The killing spree with Ray keeps his mind at peace for a while. Longer than he expected. Long enough that Ryan was beginning to think he was done with nightmares, and Rays was just a fluke. 

He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol depression really makes a year and a half seem like two months, huh?
> 
> Find me here: http://dean-can-dig-elvis.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Chapter 2 will hopefully be up soon!


End file.
